Damian's New Skill
by dragonprincess1988
Summary: Thanks to another crazy night in Gotham, Damian has a new skill.
1. Chapter 1

He doesn't know how to give Dick what he needs. He wants to. He wants to be able to give him everything he could ever desire, but he can't. Tim's not the touchy-feely type-never has been. He's been trying to be so for Dick, but it never seems to be enough. He's not an open person. Tim knows that he's not, and quite frankly, he's not even sure that it's something that he's capable of, but he keeps trying. However, it just seems to make Dick more uncomfortable and even sadder when he fails. He can't keep doing this-can't keep putting himself through difficult times, only to have Dick look at him with such disappointment.

Besides, Dick has Damian now, so it's not like he really needs Tim anymore-and maybe that's the problem. He can get what he wants from Damian, and he doesn't want it from Tim anymore. He has a new little lost boy who needs Dick in a way that Tim never really did, so Dick puts all of his efforts into Damian. This is how it should be, after all. Dick's done a wonderful job with Damian so far. He isn't actively trying to kill Tim anymore, and things seem to be running smoothly for the two of them, so maybe it's better that Dick doesn't waste his time with Tim anymore.

And, if that causes Tim pain, then he'll just have to learn to work through it, just like he always does. Dick doesn't need to know how much it feels like a betrayal to see him interact with Damian the way that he used to with Tim. And, quite frankly, Tim's pretty sure that Dick doesn't even know that he's doing it. Certainly, there's no reason for Tim to be upset over something that Dick isn't even consciously aware of, and besides, Damian deserves to have someone who cares about him, right? So, Tim is left with nothing and no one, again, in his life. It's hardly the first time, and he can certainly find something new to occupy his time. It can be an exercise in how to deal with all of the emotions that he thought he put behind him from his childhood.

Surely, Tim can find something other than Dick Grayson-other than Robin-to keep him happy, to make him forget the loneliness and pain. He doesn't know what yet, but he's sure that he can find something. After all, it's not as though he doesn't have friends-even if he's sure that they're all too busy with their own lives to deal with Tim's neediness. And, when did that happen? When did Tim allow himself to become needy in such a way? He would never have allowed this if he knew how it was all going to end. He knows that he needs to set some time aside later to figure out when, exactly, he went from an efficient fighter to a needy brother. But then, maybe brother isn't the right word anymore. He knows what he told Dick, that he knew that he would come because they're brothers and that's what brothers do, but the truth is, they haven't acted like brothers in a long time.

Tim shakes his head as if to clear it. He's sitting on one of the medical tables, stitching up his thigh. The others are all in bed. It's not as though he's incapable of suturing his own leg, after all, he's done it before. He just wishes he could focus more on the task. But it's something he's used to, and he pushes the needle through his skin almost thoughtlessly. He's about halfway done with the stitches when he hears Damian coming down the steps. It's true that Dick has done great things with Damian. After all, in addition to no longer trying to kill Tim, the two of them are actually capable of being in the same room with each other without breaking into a fight. They even insult each other less, which is why Tim doesn't say anything when Damian stops in front of him.

Tim had been the last one to come in after patrol, so he just assumes that Damian is doing his own strange nightly check of the place. It makes sense, given who he is and who he isn't. Tim expects Damian to just scoff at the wound on his leg and then leave again, so, when Damian starts to speak, Tim tries not to tug too hard on the needle. "I...your..." Tim's never heard this kid stutter and it's almost starting to worry him. "Are you okay?"

Tim's head whips up so fast that he feels slightly light headed, before he stills all over and nearly drops the needle. They might not be trying to kill each other anymore, but the two of them are far from asking how each other are, and certainly not over something as small as the gash on Tim's leg. "Um, Damian, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but are you on something?" Tim's not sure how exactly he's going to restrain Damian if he is, but he'll figure something out. They have protocols for this sort of thing for a reason.

Damian actually shudders a little before answering. "That witch that we fought tonight. She hit me with some sort of spell."

Tim's eyes widen. "Did you tell Dick? What kind of spell? What did it do to you? Has anyone contacted Zatanna?"

Damian holds up a hand to stop Tim's onslaught of questions, and then rubs his head. "Yes, yes, we followed all of the necessary protocols, and, while Grayson knows that I was hit with a spell, he isn't aware of the full affects of it. Zatanna said it was more of a mischief spell, and would wear off eventually."

Tim's sure that was supposed to make him feel better, in some sort of way, but it doesn't. "Mischief spell? What does that mean? And what exactly are the full effects that Dick doesn't know about?"

Damian looks as though he really wants to shuffle his feet, but instead he just stands tall. "I can feel your emotions. I know that you're upset and hurt. I could feel them all the way upstairs."

Tim takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. Surely, he can deal with this. After all, he still spends a lot of weekends with Raven. "Okay, and you didn't tell Dick about this, because?"

Damian glances down at the ground sheepishly for a moment. "I liked it at first. It was nice knowing how Grayson and Pennyworth really feel about me, but then you came home, and you were so...so sad, and I know it has something to do with me."

Tim raises an eyebrow suspiciously at that. He's not sure if that's true, or if Damian is just fishing here, because even Raven isn't always good enough to tell what someone is upset about. "It's nothing, Damian. I'm just tired and sore." Tim goes back to finishing his sutures.

Damian huffs out a breath. "I can feel your doubt and I know that you're lying."

Tim sighs to himself. There's a reason he tries to limit his interaction with empaths. "What if I promise you that the emotions that you were reading off of me earlier had nothing to do with anything you've done directly?"

Damian stares at him strangely for a second before he sits down next to Tim. "Okay, I believe you, but what were they about then? You were...I can't really describe the amount of pain that I felt from you."

Tim finishes his sutures and places a gauze bandage over the wound to keep the stitches from snagging on his shorts. "It's nothing you need to worry about. Now, we should probably both get to bed."

Tim makes his way to the stairs, but he's halted by Damian's voice. "You hate me."

It isn't a question, but Tim shakes his head anyway. "No, I don't."

Damian folds his arms over his chest. "Fine, well, you still don't trust me."

Tim sighs to himself. He wasn't lying when he said that they should get to bed. He's exhausted and this conversation isn't helping any. "I don't trust anyone, Damian."

Damian raises an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Not even Grayson?"

The pain that runs through Tim is like an internal wince-all over. He's sure that Damian can feel it by the expression on his face. It looks as though someone has just stabbed him, except Damian never looks that hurt or that miserable when someone attacks him. "I think you already know that answer to that one, Damian."

Damian seems sad and confused by Tim's response. "But why? He loves you more than me."

Tim laughs but there's no humor in it, and he's pretty sure that he just saw Damian shudder in pain again. "We both know that's not true. Now, come on, I need sleep and I think I've been through enough tonight, don't you?"

Damian looks as though he wants to argue, but for once he just follows Tim up the stairs. "I wish this hadn't happened. I don't like feeling what you do."

Tim can't actually suppress the sound that wants to come out of his throat, and all he knows is that it's somewhere between a whine and a sob. "Hey, Damian, here's a secret for you. I don't like it either."

The End (for now)


	2. Chapter 2

Damian wakes to the feeling of overwhelming cheerfulness. He knows exactly whose emotions he's feeling. Damian is confused by the concept that Dick really is just that happy all of the time. He was sure that at least some of it was an act. The fact that it's not makes Damian wonder how anyone can be that blithe all of the time. The emotion suddenly gets even more intense right before Dick throws open Damian's door, smiling brightly at him. "Hey, little D, how are you feeling? Have you noticed any other effects from the spell?"

Damian just glares at him, because now he can feel that the concern is genuine, and it just annoys him-especially since Dick is still radiating happiness. It makes Damian want to sneer at him. "I'm fine, Grayson. Your concern is unwarranted."

Dick just sighs, as though Damian's response is an expected one. "Okay, well, you should get dressed. You know how much Alfred hates it when we're late to breakfast." Dick turns to go, but is halted by Damian's voice.

"Is Drake still here?" Damian knows that it's not said with his usual disdain, but he just wants to know what he needs to prepare himself for, which means that he has to suffer through the fact that Dick's exuberance is giving him a headache.

Dick pauses for a second, clearly caught off-guard by the question. "Um, I didn't even know Tim was here. I thought he went back to his place after patrol last night."

Dick's bewilderment makes Damian's stomach lurch. He really hadn't expected everyone's emotions to affect him in such a physical way, and it's really starting to irritate him. Damian scoffs to cover up his own discomfort. "Surely, it was just easier and quicker for him to come back here to sew up his leg."

"Tim was injured?"

The concern rolls off of Dick in waves that crash into Damian and make him want to double over. "Calm down, it wasn't anything serious. The wound was barely even worth the sutures." His words don't sooth Dick any, and now Damian is having difficulty ignoring the way Dick's emotions are effecting him. Damian rolls his eyes at him, and gestures for Dick to leave. "Well, aren't you going to go bother Drake about his injuries? Not that they are really worth mentioning, I assure you."

Dick leaves, and Damian breathes a sigh of relief. He's almost tempted to contact Raven and ask her how she deals with the physical drawback of her abilities, but then others would know about his new-found skill. Damian doesn't know what the others would do if they knew how the spell really effected him, but he's fairly certain that patrol and his other Robin duties would be suspended until the spell wore off. He doesn't want that, nor does he want the others to start treating him differently just because he now knows what they're feeling.

He has no idea why he told Drake what happened to him, or why he's certain that Drake won't tell the others, but none of that is really important right now. Now, he needs to find some way to deal with the physical symptoms afflicted upon him by everyone's emotions, especially if he intends to patrol tonight. The last thing that he needs is to have something else happen while he's in the Robin suit.

When Damian gets down to the kitchen, he doesn't even need to enter the room to know who's inside. There's a deep calm resonating off of one of the occupants. Damian knows that he's registering Alfred's feelings, simply because it's an emotion that none of them emit the way that Alfred does. It washes over him, and leaves him feeling light. His stomach suddenly no longer feels like it's trying to do flips, and he finds himself feeling physically better than he has all day. Damian breaths a sigh of relief before he's hit with another burst of Dick's overpowering joy. He can feel the migraine generated by that particular emotion starting again, but it's a low-grade thrumming, and it's easily ignored. The final flood of emotion that Damian picks up is an immense gloom that makes his entire body ache. Apparently, Tim stayed, after all.

It takes a few moments before Damian is sure that he can go into the room without being overtaken by everything that they're all feeling. He steadies himself and works on making it appear as though nothing is amiss. When he enters the room, Dick smiles at him and gestures for him to sit beside him. Tim doesn't glance up from his cup of coffee, but Damian can feel the anxiousness that he's trying to conceal. Clearly, Tim wishes that he was anywhere else right now, and Damian knows it's not just because he knows that Damian can read his emotions. He doesn't say anything, though. Instead, Damian just sits and waits for Alfred to serve them.

Dick leans down and nudges him with his elbow. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You're awfully quiet over there."

Damian nods, and tries his best not to punch Dick in the face for his concern. It's still annoying, and worse, it's making him ill again. "I'm fine, Grayson, so stop looking at me like that." Damian growls out as he glares at him.

Dick holds up his hands in the air defensively. "Okay, okay, but we still don't know what that spell was supposed to do, so if you feel weird or different at all you have to tell someone."

Damian waves his hand at him dismissively. "Yes, yes, I'm well aware."

Dick ruffles his hair, before he turns back to his own cup of coffee. Damian just wishes that Dick's emotions were as easily dismissed. Tim's in the process of pointedly ignoring them as he focuses on anything but Dick and Damian. Damian almost wants to ask why Dick isn't more concerned with Tim's lack of talking, but he doesn't really want to find out how many emotions that one question would delve up, nor does he know if he'd be able to handle all of the reactions said emotions would cause him. They eat in relative silence-relative, because Dick never stops talking, even when there's food in his mouth. Tim eats quickly, and then makes some excuse about having work to do before heading for the door.

Damian can feel Dick's mirthful mood dampen a little at that. He isn't actually sure how that can feel worse than the full-on cheerfulness that was giving him a headache earlier, but it does. It feels like a small part of himself dimmed slightly, and it makes him want to massage his temples or possibly just yell at Dick for a while. Hell, he's starting to imagine himself banging Dick's head off of the table until unconsciousness overtakes him. Damian rolls his eyes, and then clears his throat. "If you're so worried about the idiot, you could go after him instead of sitting here with that pathetic expression plastered on your face." Quite frankly, Damian doesn't care if Dick takes the suggestion or not. He just wants Dick to go away for a while or stop feeling so much all of the time.

Dick stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah, Tim probably really does have work to do, and someone has to make sure that you don't turn into a three-toed sloth or some other terrible thing."

Damian rolls his eyes again. "I think we should be more concerned with your tendency to act like a bumbling baboon."

Dick smirks at him, and Damian really does want to clutch his head now. "Why? Just because I like bananas? That just seems unimaginative, D."

"You're an idiot, Grayson."

Dick laughs as he ruffles Damian's hair again. "Yeah, so I've been told."

Damian pulls away from the hand in his hair. "You're insufferable. I'll be in my room. Thank you for breakfast, Pennyworth." Damian is about to turn and leave when he's suddenly hit with the shock and worry from both of them. He scoffs and glares at the kitchen as a whole. "You are, after all, the only person in this entire building I can pretend to stand at the moment." Damian doesn't give either of them a chance to respond before he retreats back to his room, intent on finding some way to deal with his splitting migraine.

The End (for now)


	3. Chapter 3

Dick finds Tim on a rooftop during patrol. It's the only chance that he gets to actually talk to Tim anymore, which makes him think that he really needs to work on their relationship more. Fortunately, for tonight, Dick made Damian stay at home, despite Damian's protests that he was fine. The kid had definitely been more upset about that then Dick had expected, but they still aren't sure what that spell did to him. Damian hasn't been acting nearly as hostile as he normally is, and Dick is honestly starting to worry about the kid. He lands beside Red Robin, making sure to scuff his boot once. After all, there's no point in trying to sneak up on Tim...not anymore. "Slow night, huh?"

Tim steps away from the edge of the roof, and nods once. "You sound almost disappointed."

Dick shakes his head, and smiles at the feel of the wind in his hair. He's so happy to be back in the Nightwing uniform. "Nah, I'm just a little bored. That's all."

Tim grins knowingly at that. "So, you came to bother me. I knew you couldn't last one whole night without talking the ear off of a Robin." 

Dick's smile turns a little rueful at that. There's something about Tim's voice that makes the accusation sting a bit more than it should-although Dick isn't surprised that Tim believes that he just wants to bother a Robin, as opposed to actually want to talk to Tim. Still, there's no reason he can't just lead into this conversation nice and easy. "Yeah, speaking of which, you have any idea what's up with him? He's been acting weird lately."

Tim stares at him for a moment, not saying anything. It looks as though he's thinking it over, and deciding something. Dick doesn't know what, but before he could ever hope to figure it out, Tim's entire posture changes, and for a split second he looks like the teenager and begrudging older sibling that he is. "How am I supposed to know? It's not like we've ever been close."

The response, while a normal one, doesn't seem to fit, and Dick doesn't know why. It's a completely accurate statement. Damian and Tim might not be at each others' throats anymore, but they hardly get along. Still, something doesn't feel right about this interaction. "I don't know. I thought maybe you had noticed something. I mean, you were at breakfast. You saw how he was acting."

Tim shrugs as he turns back towards the street. "I don't know. He seemed just as annoying as always."

Dick shakes his head. Now that he thinks about it, Tim hadn't really been acting like himself at breakfast either. He's frankly starting to wonder if his two youngest brothers are planning something. "No, he wasn't. Come on, his comments weren't nearly as cutting as normal."

Tim sighs as he moves closer to the edge of the rooftop. "I don't know what to tell you. He seemed perfectly fine to me. Maybe you should go talk to him about it."

Dick grabs a hold of Tim's cape before he can go jumping off the side of the roof. "Now I know something is going on. You, of all people, know that talking to Damian directly never works, and so, would never suggest such a thing. What's really going on?"

Tim tries to pull his cape out of Dick's grasp, but Dick isn't relenting...not until he knows what's going on. "I don't know anything. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my patrol."

Dick knows that he's not going to get anything else out of Tim right now, so he lets him go. Dick swears that this isn't the end of the subject. He's going to find out what the two of them are hiding, and he's going to figure it out...tonight. He heads off in the opposite direction, despite how much he wants to follow Tim. However, Dick knows that if he does that, then they'll just end up fighting. It seems like all they do is fight now. Sure, they still have their moments of brotherly tenderness, but it usually only lasts for a short time before they're right back to arguing. Sometimes the arguments are punctuated by one or both apologizing, but for the most part, they just go their separate ways, and then act like the fight never happened afterward.

Dick doesn't know when it got to be this way, but he doesn't like it. He misses being able to talk to his little brother without feeling like they're always on the brink of some massive fight. Tim doesn't talk to him...not the way that he used to. There once was a time when Tim spoke freely with him, but now all of his sentences are either short and clipped, biting and harsh, or superficially light and happy. It's nothing Dick's ever wanted, and he's not really sure what to do about it.

Tim's pretty damn good at avoiding any conversation that he doesn't want to have, and Dick feels like he's been avoiding this conversation for years. He's not even sure how to pin Tim down long enough to have a discussion with him. The cave is never a good place for this type of thing...too many weapons lying around. The manor is big and there's too many escape routes...not to mention that Dick doesn't really want to have this conversation around Damian. He just knows better. Cornering Tim at the Tower is just as bad as the manor, except, considering how protective Tim's friends are, it's actually worse than the manor. He's already exhausted his rendezvous-on-a-rooftop option, and Dick knows that Tim will spend the rest of the night moving too quickly to track, so he's kind of out of options.

The rest of Dick's patrol is just as slow as the beginning, and with nothing to distract him from his current predicament, Dick spends his entire night in a brooding snit that would make even Bruce proud. At least, that is, until he returns home to find Damian pacing the length of the cave. Damian pauses and turns to him before Dick even gets a chance to say anything. "What's wrong, Grayson?"

Dick raises an eyebrow, because Damian has been doing that a lot lately. He's not sure why Damian seems to be so perceptive of people's moods lately, but it's definitely a little strange. "Nothing. Is Tim around?"

Damian's eyes slit slightly at the mention of Tim's name, and he suddenly looks as though he knows exactly what's going on. Dick wishes that someone would let him in on the damn joke, because he's still just as lost as when he started his evening. Before Dick gets a chance to ask him any questions, however, Damian shakes his head. "Drake went back to his apartment. He told me to tell you, and I have. Do you also require me to act as your carrier pigeon?"

The last sentence is just as harsh as it always is, and it makes Dick roll his eyes. He's not really sure why all of his little brothers are so difficult, but he guesses it's just par for the course. "No, Damian, but thank you for the offer."

Damian bristles at the comment, which makes Dick smile brightly. "I am a fully capable fighter, and my abilities should not be wasted in such a..."

Dick bursts into laughter at the look on Damian's face. He can't help it, and suddenly he doesn't even care what's going on because Damian is still Damian, and at least one thing is the same as it has always been. "Chill, little D. It was a joke."

Damian folds his arms over his chest as he scoffs. "You are such a simple minded plebeian, Grayson."

Dick's smile only widens as he moves to ruffle Damian's hair. He can't help but mess with the kid...not when it's so easy. "Yeah, but you know you love me."

Damian huffs out a breath as he ducks out from underneath the offending hand. "I have never said any such thing."

Dick sighs as he starts removing the top half of his uniform. "Shouldn't you be in bed? You do have school tomorrow, after all."

Damian glares at him. "I've dealt with the utter morons at that school with far less sleep. I can certainly handle tomorrow's classes."

Dick shakes his head as he strolls toward the showers. "Yeah, but just because you can doesn't mean you should. What are you doing up anyway? You didn't start noticing any strange side effects of that spell, did you?"

Damian follows him in order to keep up their conversation. "If I had would I still have to go to that ridiculous institution?"

Dick laughs again. He doesn't know why, but Damian is always sure to make him laugh. "Well, that depends. If you're going to randomly start croaking in the middle of class, it might be best to keep you home."

Damian's nose scrunches up at the very thought. "I doubt I will suddenly transform into such a pathetic..." 

Dick cuts him off before Damian can launch into a full blow rant. "Hey, we have no idea what that spell did to you. Who knows if it's a time-sensitive thing? Or maybe there's a certain person that sets it all into motion. These things can be very specific and dangerous, Damian."

Damian shakes his head at that. "It's not a specific person."

Dick pauses while turning on the water and glances back over to Damian. "What was that? Damian, what's going on?"

Damian looks uncertainly at him for a long moment. Dick's just about ready to forgo the shower and start running every test that he can think of on him when Damian suddenly takes in a large breath and stands up straighter. "There's no need for your concern, Grayson. I'm fine. The spell didn't alter my biology, and I won't be transforming into any animals."

Dick's eyes narrow at that, and he stares at Damian for a full minute. "If you're so sure about that, then you know what it did do to you." Damian doesn't move an inch, so Dick takes the opportunity to fold his arms over chest, and look as menacing as he possibly can while clad in only the bottom half of his uniform. "So, what did it do, Damian?"

Damian glares down at the floor in front of him, and looks torn between answering Dick and just walking away. Dick's not really sure what makes the decision for him, but after a few seconds Damian levels that glare at Dick. "The spell made me empathic."

Dick's not really sure what he expected to hear, but that sure as heck wasn't it. He blinks a few times while he tries to find some sort of response to that. He doesn't really have anything. Sure, one of his best friends is an empath, but she was born that way. This is hardly the same thing. After a few moments of silence, Dick clears his throat. "Well, that certainly explains a lot." It's really the only thing that he can think to say in this moment. That is until the questions start to form on his lips. "Wait, so does Alfred know?" At the boy's head shake, Dick continues. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Damian sighs as though this is something that should be obvious. "I didn't want my Robin duties to be taken away from me, but you've already done that."

Dick winces at the explanation and the pain and anger he sees in Damian's eyes. He's caused that look on more than one of his little brothers' faces, and yet it only seems to hurt more every time it happens. "I'm sorry, Damian. I didn't mean for it to seem like a punishment. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

Damian nods once, and waves his hand in the air as if to dismiss Dick's apology. "I'm aware."

Dick wishes that all of his apologies were this easy. He knows that it's only because Damian can feel how genuinely remorseful he really is, but Dick will take whatever he can get. Things haven't been simple lately, and he's sure that this new predicament is going to come with it's own slew of problems, but at least for right now, he can take comfort in the fact that one crisis has been averted.

The End (for now)


	4. Chapter 4

Tim's been doing an excellent job of avoiding the manor, Dick, and, most importantly, Damian since his impromptu rendezvous with Dick the other night. The best part is, he's actually been genuinely busy, so no one can even claim that he's actively avoiding them...no matter how accurate it may be. Unfortunately, Tim knew that it couldn't last forever, which is why he's not even slightly surprised when he walks into his apartment to find Dick lounging on his couch with a bottle of water in his hand. "Hey, little brother, it's been a while." He's got a giant grin on his face, and he looks about as relaxed as one can be, but that doesn't mean that Tim isn't still on high alert.

He drops his laptop bag on the floor by the door, and then turns toward Dick. Tim really doesn't have the energy for this. He just finished three very long and extensively boring WE meetings and Tim still needs to finish his paperwork for tomorrow's set of equally exhausting board meetings. "What do you want, Dick?"

When the smile slides off of Dick's face and he sits up straighter before placing the bottle of water on Tim's coffee table, Tim considers trying the apologetic 'overworked let's be amicable about this' line on him, but he figures it might be a bit late for that-especially since it's obvious that whatever Dick came here to say isn't going to lead to a pleasant conversation. "Did you know that that spell made Damian empathic?"

Tim sighs to himself. He knows an accusation when he hears one, and Dick's not asking...no matter how he phrases it. Tim doesn't see a reason to lie. After all, maybe if they just have this out, then he'll actually get the chance to finish all of his work before patrol tonight. "So, he finally told you, then."

Dick's eyes narrow as he quickly gets to his feet. "Yeah, he did. What I can't understand is why you didn't. And don't try to pull some sort of loyalty crap on me, because you and Damian are barely even civil at the best of times."

Tim shrugs and tries to subtly move back towards the door. He's not really sure how Dick thinks this conversation is going to go, but Tim likes to have an exit planned just in case. "We're doing better with that."

Dick folds his arms over his chest in what Tim assumes is an attempt to look as imposing as possible. "Yeah, but that still doesn't answer my question. Why didn't you tell me about Damian?"

Tim takes another step back and has to almost physically stop himself from latching onto the door knob. He's not really sure what answer Dick wants to hear. It's not like he has a better reason beyond 'It was better for everyone involved if you didn't know,' which he knows Dick won't accept. "I figured that the kid would tell you in his own time."

Dick takes a step closer, but Tim is more focused on the best way to double back to get the reports that he needs to finish if it comes to that. "You're hiding something. What is it?"

Tim shakes his head. There isn't a good way to sneak back into his own apartment, and maybe he should have thought about that when he set this place up. Unfortunately, at the time, he was more concerned with keeping unwanted individuals out. "What would I possibly be hiding?"

Dick throws up his hands in the air out of frustration. "I don't know, but is there a reason you keep getting closer and closer to the door?"

Tim freezes all over. He hadn't been paying attention, and now he has nowhere to go but forward. He takes a step away from the door. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Damian, but out of everything that could have happened, shouldn't we just be relieved that Damian's new empathic ability is the only thing that occurred?"

Dick huffs out a breath as he moves to circle around Tim's living room. "That's not really the point, Tim." He honestly looks more annoyed now than when this conversation started, and Tim really can't understand why. After all, this has to be making his relationship with Damian all that much easier, so why is this such a big deal?

"Then what is the point, Dick, because I gotta say I'm pretty damn lost right now." Tim doesn't even know why they're having this conversation. He can't see what Damian's magical mishap has to do with him. Hell, he wasn't even in the vicinity of the fight. He merely heard about it over the comm, and figured that, since Damian was being his normal self, everything was fine. Tim is honestly starting to regret going to the cave to stitch himself up that night, because if it wasn't for that tiny lapse in judgment, none of this would be his problem right now.

"The point is, Timmy, that I know you're hiding something. I know there's a reason you didn't tell me about Damian, and I want to know what it is. I've tried being patient and giving you your space, but it seems as though the more space I give you, the less we actually talk. I mean, I practically have to corner you to even see you nowadays." Dick passes in front of the couch, and proceeds to slump down onto it, clearly exasperated.

Tim pushes a hand through his hair, and tries to find some way out of this fight. It's really not his fault that they just don't get along the way that they used to. After all, Dick's the one who pushed him away first. "Just because you feel it necessary to corner me on rooftops and in my own apartment because Damian is acting strange doesn't mean..."

Dick shakes his head and holds up a hand to stop him. "Don't do that...don't make this about something that it's not. We both know that our issues started long before Damian's run in with that witch."

Tim sighs again. What is he supposed to do? It's not like any of this is going to magically get any better...no matter who's doing the casting. "Look, I'm tired. It's been a long day, and I still have work to do, so can we maybe shelve this until..."

Dick stands abruptly and takes a step closer to him. "No, we're not shelving this. We're not letting it go for now. We're having this out. I'm sick of constantly dropping it because you've got work or something else going on." Tim knows that Dick needs to be in constant motion, especially when stressed, but the continually aborted effort to sit down and talk this out rationally is putting him even more on edge.

Tim raises an eyebrow as he folds his arms over his chest and tries to breathe through his own anger. "Right, because I'm always the one who has something else going on. You've never once ran out on me because of Gotham, or New York, or Damian, or a previous engagement."

Dick takes a deep breath, and looks about two seconds away from tearing out his own hair. "I didn't say that. It's just...we never seem to have time to just hang out anymore. You're always busy, and I've got..."

"...more important things to deal with." Tim finishes for him. He's done trying to be nice about this. Dick made his choices, and that's hardly something that Tim feels the need to shoulder the blame for.

"Hey, come on, I never said that." Dick looks as though he just wants to wrap him in a hug, and Tim really can't deal with that right now. It figures that the first time in-Tim can't remember when-that Dick wants to show him physical affection is during a fight, and Tim isn't even actually sure how it started.

He wants nothing more than to just grab his reports and walk out the door, because he knows that this fight isn't going anywhere. It never does. "It's not important. Forget I said anything."

Dick shakes his head. "No, come on, that's what this is all about, right?"

Tim glares at him, and tries to keep his frustration under control, because it's really not Dick's fault that he just can't seem to keep everything that he feeling to himself now of days. He'd love to blame Damian's new empathic ability, but the truth is, Tim has been having issues with keeping his snarky comments to himself for a some time now. "I don't know what this is about, Dick. I don't even understand why you're here. So, Damian has a new-found skill, and now he can read people's emotions. What does this have to do with me?"

Dick sighs and reaches out to grab Tim's shoulders, but Tim pulls away before he can. The hurt expression, while expected, still stings to see. "This isn't about Damian's sudden empathic ability. This is about the fact that you knew and didn't tell me. Wait a minute, how did you know about the effects of the spell? I'm sure Damian didn't just tell you out of the blue. What happened that night?"

Tim glances around his apartment, frantically searching for anything to get him out of this conversation, because those were the questions Tim was hoping to avoid since Dick mentioned that he knew about the full effects of the spell. It's times like these that Tim hopes for an emergency...no matter how terrible of a person that makes him. "Nothing happened that night. I stitched up my leg. He came down to the cave, because he's a nosy brat, and he mentioned his little spell problem. That's it."

Dick's eyes narrow as he moves closer toward Tim again. "No, you're lying. I know it. I was trained by the world's greatest detective, too, remember? He read your emotions that night, didn't he? That's why you've been avoiding the manor. Damian knows something about you now...something that you didn't want anyone else to know. The only thing I can't figure out is why he didn't just tell me. What pact did you make with him?"

Tim's shoulders sag, and he hangs his head. He knew he couldn't keep Dick away from the truth forever, but it would have been nice if it could have lasted a little longer, especially since, after Dick figures out that the person he really should be talking to right now is Damian, Tim will have to find some way to shove all of this into the back of his head in order to focus on his work. "I didn't make a pact with Damian. I don't know why he didn't just tell you, especially since he told you about his new condition. I'd figure he'd love the chance to gloat."

Dick raises an eyebrow at that. "Gloat? Gloat about what?"

Tim can't believe that Dick hasn't figured it out yet. The giant secret that isn't so well kept anymore. He laughs but there's no humor in it. The sound is sad and pathetic and grating to his own ears. It's more of a sob than anything else, and Tim can see Dick moving to wrap his arms around him out of the corner of his eye, but this time he doesn't move out of the way or try to stop him. After all, once the words are finally out of his mouth and Dick finally comes to the painfully obvious realization that Tim made what seems like eons ago, Tim's fairly certain that this will go away too. "You have the younger brother you've always wanted-the one who needs you in a way that I just don't and never have."

Dick's arms tighten around him, and Tim has to fight not to clutch back. "What are you talking about? Of course, Damian needs me in a way that you don't. You weren't raised the way Damian was. What's that have to do with anything."

Tim shakes his head, and slips out of the hug. He can't explain to Dick what he means, because he can't give up what little brotherly interactions he has with Dick-no matter how few they are-because it would hurt too much. "Nothing. I'm just tired, and I really do have a lot of work to do. Not to mention, you should get back to dealing with Damian. There's no telling how he dealt with feeling all of his classmates' emotions all day." He gives Dick a reassuring smile, before grabbing his laptop bag, and heading for the door. "Sorry, I couldn't stick around longer, but I'm late for a meeting with Tam." He rushes out the door before Dick can say anything and takes the stairs two at a time. Once he's on street level, Tim practically runs in the opposite direction of the path Dick will have to take back to the manor. He wants to tell himself that it's for the best, but he already knows it's a lie.

The End (for now)


	5. Chapter 5

Damian's head feels like it's been put in a vise and his stomach rolls with the aftereffects of dealing with the emotions from all of his classmates. While he didn't particularly enjoy vomiting, Damian is tremendously relieved to be away from that horrid institution. Not to mention, being around Pennyworth's calming presence has settled his stomach quite a bit in the few moments that he's been in the man's company. "Thank you for retrieving me, Pennyworth."

"Of course, young sir." The older gentleman holds the door open for him as Damian climbs into the backseat of the awaiting vehicle. "However, the trip would have been unnecessary had you informed me that you were feeling under the weather."

Damian has an overwhelming urge to rub his aching head, but refrains from showing such weakness. "I was not ill until those simpletons became so ecstatic over sweets. One would think they had never seen a cake before."

He can feel Alfred's distinct pleasure at his plight, and it makes him grind his teeth together. "I'm afraid most children have a habit of becoming quite exuberant when sweets are allowed in the classroom, and it's not every day a schoolmate has a birthday."

"Yes, well, it's an experience I would rather not repeat."

"One can only hope that your magical affliction won't last much longer, young master."

Damian grumbles to himself, and the car ride home is spent in silence. He's looking forward to retreating to his room and isolating himself for a good couple of hours as soon as they get back, which is why when he enters the front door to find Drake just staring at him blankly, Damian growls instead of just ignoring him. "What are you doing here?"

He can feel how uneasy Drake is around him… how much he doesn't want to interact with him, and Damian can definitely relate. He doesn't like being around Drake either, especially not when he just got over feeling ill and Drake's emotional state often leaves him weary. "I could ask you the same thing. Shouldn't you be at school?"

Damian sneers. He doesn't need Drake to know about how his new empathetic ability affects him physically. "It's none of your business. Now state why you're here."

Drake sighs in an almost dejected way that causes Damian's head to pound once again, and Damian can't stand it. He would rather deal with the effects of the other's anger than his depression. "If you must know, I came to drop something off for Alfred. I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here."

Damian rolls his eyes. "Well, I assume you've left it for him, so you can leave now. It's not as though anyone needs you here anymore." He really can't handle dealing with Drake's pathetic emotions right now, no matter how soothing Pennyworth's disposition is, and Damian will do whatever he can to get the other boy irritated enough to leave.

Tim bristles at him, but Damian can feel the sharp sting of pain that runs through Drake at his words, and it causes his stomach to flip once again. However, neither one of them gets a chance to say anything before Pennyworth appears behind them. "Master Timothy, how good of you to stop by. I have something for, young sir, if you'll just wait here for a moment."

Drake stutters for a moment, clearly trying to stop Pennyworth from leaving, but it doesn't work. The man is out of sight before Drake manages to gather his words, and that causes a small wave a shame to run through Drake, which registers as a sharp burn working its way down Damian's throat. "Hopefully, Pennyworth will hurry. I wouldn't want to be around you any longer than necessary."

Tim glares at him halfheartedly, which only infuriates Damian more. The older boy's reactions are only making him more ill, and it's starting to irritate Damian in a way that would normally mean violence. "What's wrong with you, Drake? Are you too weak to even snipe back at me? Or are you just afraid the others will stop loving you?"

The jibe does not have the desired effect. Instead of making Drake livid enough to leave, Damian's words merely cause them both more pain. There's a sharp, intense, stabbing pressure in his head that causes Damian to almost double over, evoked by Drake's deep self-loathing and the belief that they already do not love him. He can feel it rolling off the other boy, and for a moment Damian is nearly certain that he's going to vomit again, but then as quickly as the pain had struck there's a burning feeling in his gut induced by Drake's anger.

"At least I can recognize other people's emotions without a spell to force me to piggyback off of others, because my mother genetically modified them out of me."

Before Damian can really sink into the feeling of Drake's anger and stroke it into something a little less headache inducing, Grayson strolls in from outside in workout attire. His exuberance is dampened when he sees the two of them glaring at each other, but he's still just as obnoxiously happy as always. "Timmy, I didn't know you were coming over today. And what's going on with you two?"

"Nothing," Tim mumbles as his irritation dies down into nothing, and his melancholy rises to the surfaces again.

Damian can't take the pounding in his head anymore, but he only knows one way to provoke Drake's fury now that Grayson is here. "Oh, yes, nothing at all, just Drake being even more pathetic than normal. Apparently, he doesn't know how to cope with being unloved, even though one would think he'd be used to it by now. Surely, if he can't even get you to love him, there must be something inherently wrong with his lesser genetics, right Grayson?"

"Damian, come on, that's enough. You know I care about Tim just as much as I do you." Grayson sounds exasperated, but he still has his cheerful demeanor, which isn't improving Damian's physical wellbeing any, and Drake has all but caved in on himself, hoping the two of them will just leave him be, but Damian refuses to put up with his mood any longer.

"Please, don't be ridiculous, Grayson. We've all seen how you treat him. You clearly don't care about him anymore than father does, and since father doesn't even bother speaking with Drake, it clearly isn't much."

"Dami, that's not true, and you know it."

Damian scoffs and tries to ignore the nausea that Drake's depression is causing him. "No, the truth is, everyone knows how useless Drake is…everyone except you. Hell, even Drake is aware of his worthlessness. Do you not see that that's the reason he flees when you're around? He knows you are the last to realize his insignificance, and yet, for some reason, he fears your rejection - despite the fact that it's inevitable."

Damian has to fight down the bile rising in the back of his throat and the searing pain coursing through his entire body. He glances over at Drake, who looks unfazed by the words, but Damian can feel how hurt he truly is and it's making his vision blurry. He settles himself, and glares at Drake instead of vomiting all over him. He can feel Grayson behind him, stunned and unsure of what to say…can tell that the man hopes that what Damian says is a lie, and yet knows that it's not. Suddenly, Grayson is standing before Drake, and the rush of panic that Drake feels makes Damian lurch forward before he manages to catch himself. "Tim…Timmy, you know that's not true, right?"

Drake nods and gives the weakest smile Damian has ever seen. The pain and queasiness is nearly unbearable now. "Of course, Dick, don't be ridiculous. Anyway, I've got to go. There's a big board meeting tomorrow that I've got to prepare for."

Drake rushes towards the door, but Grayson grabs a hold of his arm, and Damian nearly curses out loud. He's so close to relief, but once again Grayson gets in the way. "Timmy, I love you, little brother, and you're not useless, you know that, right?" Grayson turns to Damian to see Tim's reaction, which only makes Damian want to retch even more.

Damian curls his hands into fists and tries to control the physical reaction. "Grayson, just let him leave. Drake doesn't want to be here anymore than we want him here."

Dick looks torn between letting go and holding onto to Tim forever. Damian can't take it anymore. He makes the decision for him by hitting Grayson's wrists just hard enough that he has no choice but to release Drake. The moment Tim is free, he runs out of the door, and Damian immediately moves to block the exit. "Let him go."

Grayson looks about two seconds away from pushing past Damian - who has no qualms about incapacitating Dick - before slumping his shoulders in defeat. "He really believes all of that, doesn't he?"

Dick's morose mood invokes a sour taste in Damian's mouth and he swallows reflexively before merely shrugging his shoulders and making his way toward his room, where he hopefully won't have to deal with anyone for a few hours. "Of course. He has no reason not to."

The End (for now)


	6. Chapter 6

Dick doesn't know what he's supposed to do. All of his instincts are telling him to run after Tim, but he knows it won't do any good. Bombarding Tim so soon after something so emotionally revealing will only arouse Tim's anger, and he doesn't want to hurt Tim anymore than he already has. Dick doesn't know how things have become so bad between them, or how Tim could ever believe those things about himself, but he knows he has to do something about it preferably before Tim is able to shut out everyone and everything even further than he already has. However, Dick has no idea how he's even supposed to go about doing that.

Dick's thoughts are interrupted by a very distinctive clearing of the throat. "Master Richard, I am aware that you are distraught, but I assure you that pacing along the back of the leather sofa will be no more enlightening than pacing on the floor."

Dick sheepishly jumps down from his perch. "Sorry, Alfred, I just don't know how to fix this."

"Might I suggest dusting, sir? It's far kinder to the furnishings and gives one plenty of time to dwell."

Dick doesn't bother arguing that there isn't a single surface in the manor that Alfred hasn't already attended to, and instead merely takes the offered cloth from Alfred's white glove-clad hand and begins wiping down various objects. He knows that Alfred has his reasons for setting him to this task, even if it's to just get Dick to release his energy in a more constructive way. He doubts that he'll garner any ideas about his situation with Tim, but the dusting does give Dick something to do.

It isn't long before Dick is hanging from the chandelier in the main hall, halfheartedly running the cloth Alfred gave him over it in attempt to keep busy, which means it also isn't long before Alfred waltzes in with a disapproving glare. "Perhaps it would be best for you to go search for Master Timothy, young sir. It has been several hours since his departure."

Dick flips off of the chandelier to the banister, slides down it until he's closer to the ground, and then leaps off of the banister and down to the floor to land in front of Alfred. "Well, if you feel it's for the best, Alfie."

Alfred gives Dick one of his long suffering expressions before shaking his head slightly. "I can assure you it is for the betterment of all, Master Dick."

Dick doesn't miss the way Alfred practically ushers him out of the manor, but he can't really blame the older gentleman. After all, even Dick knows when he's being obnoxious in his avoidance of the real problem. He hops on his motorcycle and heads straight toward Tim's apartment. The traffic is rather light this time of day, and Dick is honestly starting to think he should have taken the long route to Tim's place to give himself more time to prepare. However, when he arrives at Tim's apartment only to find the place completely empty, Dick reconsiders his stance on giving Tim space.

It takes Dick longer than he would like to admit to remember that Tim had mentioned something about a board meeting, but he had honestly thought that was just an excuse to escape, so Dick makes his way to Wayne Tower, still not entirely sure of what he intends to do or say once he gets there. It turns out it doesn't really matter, though, because Tim's not there either, and he hasn't been in all day, nor did he call to say he wouldn't be in. Dick would be worried if he didn't know that Tim probably ran to the Titans in his hour of need. He doesn't want to interrupt Tim's time with his friends - especially while Dick is still at a loss of how to repair the damage that's been done - and he can't risk making things worse, which is how Dick ends up at last place he ever expected to be.

Dick's in the middle of one of the worst areas of Gotham, standing on a doorstep, wondering just how it is that he's become this hopeless. He didn't honestly think he would be coming here, of all places, for anything even remotely close to this; but desperate times call for desperate measures. There isn't anyone who knows more about feeling abandoned by their family, and things have been going well between them lately, so hopefully this won't end as the disaster Dick's expecting it to. He takes a calming breath before knocking on the door, hoping that using a door like a normal person will win him points, instead earning him a gun pointed at his face.

There's the sound of feet shuffling across bare floorboards, and then the sound of multiple locks being undone before the door opens barely a crack and familiar teal colored eyes stare at him in the most unimpressed way. "Why am I not surprised to see you here, goldie?"

Dick sighs heavily. "Well, since I'm surprised to be here, Jason, I don't know."

Jason scoffs and pointedly doesn't open the door any wider. "Right, like you don't know that baby bird is sleeping on my couch right now."

Dick's eyes widen and he has to almost physically stop himself from pushing past Jason. "Wait, Tim is here? Why is Tim here?"

"You really didn't know he was here?" Jason seems genuinely shock and confused by this, but it only lasts a moment before he's back to his usually suspicious self. "Then what the hell are you doing here?"

Dick glances around the surrounding area uncomfortably. He would rather not have this conversation on a doorstep in the middle of Gotham. "Do you mind if I come in and we talk?"

Jason glances over his shoulder for a moment. "Actually, I do. If you didn't know that Tiny Tim was here, then I bet there's a damn good reason for that, so again, what the hell are doing here?"

Dick tries not to wince at the clear accusation in Jason's voice, but he can't help all of the questions that are probably written all over his face. He just can't figure out when things got to be this way. He wants to know when and why Tim started going to Jason, of all people, in his time of need, but most importantly Dick wants to know why he didn't know about this before. Dick sucks in a calming breath, and tries to keep his voice low. "Look, I…I came to you for help. No one knows more about feeling like an outcast in this family, and I figured you could give me pointers on how to get Tim to see that he's not insignificant."

Jason laughs…an actual, honest, full hearted laugh, and Dick can't help but feel like it's not a good thing. "Of course he's insignificant, Dickie-bird. We all are, especially in B's eyes. If you're here to find a way to convince replacement that that's not true…well, let's just say you're gonna need to find one talented magic user for that spell."

Dick shakes his head and sighs. "This…this isn't about Bruce…not really, anyway."

Jason raises an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest, clearly intrigued now. "Then what's it really about, Goldie?"

Dick doesn't even know how to describe everything that's going on. He doesn't even know if Jason knows about Damian's magical mishap, let alone the real reason that Tim apparently came to him tonight. Dick figures that, in this instance, less is more, given he's dealing with Jason, after all. "It's about me. It's about convincing him that I don't think he's insignificant…that I'm not going to reject him." The 'like everyone else does' dies on Dick's tongue. He doesn't know how close Jason and Tim are, but he doesn't want to give away too much about his little brother's insecurities, especially to someone like Jason, who will utilize that knowledge when he's feeling particularly volatile.

Jason's eyes widen slightly and he whistles a high to low tune. "Wow, how screwed up in the head is he if even the great Dick Grayson - you know, the guy he idolizes - can't convince him that he's loved and accepted? Oh, but wait, you're trying to convince him of a lie, which is probably why he's here in the first place."

Dick glares and seethes at Jason's insinuation. "It's not a lie, Jason."

Jason laughs again, and Dick gets the distinct impression that this time it's at his expense. "Of course, it's a lie, Dickie-bird. You've already rejected him once."

It feels like a slap to the face for Jason, of all people, to be bringing this particular subject up and using it in such a fashion. "If you're referring to me making Damian Robin…"

Jason scoffs at him, cutting him off. "Oh, fuck, really, you think that's what I'm talking about. Come on, we all know Robins are temporary. If the kid didn't figure that out - being he's the third and all - he kind of deserved any pain involved. Not to mention, he's worse at dealing than me, if he isn't over that yet. Nah, I'm talking about the fact that he fucking brought B back, and from what I've heard that wasn't an easy fucking task, and you still didn't believe him. Gotta say, Goldie, even I expected better from you."

Dick can't tell if Jason is just goading him into a fight, or if he really did fail so utterly in regards to Tim. He kind of figures he must have if Tim is here instead of at the manor where he belongs. Dick doesn't even know what to say or do about that. He didn't even know that Tim and Jason were on speaking terms…well, more-so than Jason and the rest of the family, let alone friendly enough to crash on Jason's couch. He's about to press Jason for more information about when he and Tim started to become closer and acting like brothers, but he's interrupted by a weak and groggy voice from behind Jason. "Hey, Jay, thanks for…well, everything, and sorry you had to find me like you did." Jason automatically turns toward the voice, allowing the door to open far enough that Dick can see into the apartment, and Tim's voice trails off as his eyes meet Dick's.

Dick is suddenly more uncomfortable than he was when he originally knocked on Jason's door, and he hadn't actually thought that that was possible. He clears his throat and tries to give Tim a reassuring smile. "Hey, Timmy."

Tim visibly curls in on himself and glances over to Jason. "What's he doing here?" The question isn't harsh or accusing, but Dick feels as though he's been stabbed, all the same.

"I don't know. He just showed up, baby bird. It's not like I called him." Dick can't see whatever facial expression Jason is giving Tim, but his voice sounds so damn soothing that it actually makes Dick ache.

He doesn't need Damian's new empathetic ability to know that Jason is helping Tim, no matter how much that wounds Dick - and it does. It's killing him that Tim is hurting and it's all his fault. He wants so badly to reach out to Tim and make this better, but even he can see that that's a terrible idea. Tim is so damn vulnerable right now, and that just makes this whole situation so much worse. Once upon a time, Tim wouldn't let anyone see him in these moments...even Dick had to fight to get his little brother to let him in. Now, it seems as though the task of putting their little brother back together is falling on Jason. Dick can't imagine how everything got to be so messed up between them, but he's glad Jason's there for Tim, even if it does seem so utterly wrong.

Dick glances between Jason and Tim, who seem to be having some silent conversation, and he can tell that his presence is neither needed nor wanted. He knows that just being here is making Tim overwrought, and he can see Jason trying to ease Tim with calming gestures. Dick doesn't want to make anything worse for Tim, so he swallows down the lump in his throat and gives the most sincere smile that he can muster, knowing that it probably looks more like a grimace than anything else. "Well, at least, I know you're in good hands, little brother." It nearly kills Dick to refer to Jason in such a way, but Tim visibly relaxes when he realizes that Dick isn't going to force him to return to the manor. So, Dick soldiers on through the searing pain in his heart. "I guess I'll get out of your hair now." Dick knows that he should just leave it there and go, but he can't stop himself from continuing, because there's just no way that he can just let that be the end of it. "Come and see me when you're ready. It doesn't have to be at the manor or anything. I…I just really want to talk, okay?" At Tim's nod, Dick smiles back. It's still the smallest smile he's ever used, but at least it's more real and more honest than the previous one.

Jason turns back to Dick, and he's not sure what Jason sees, but whatever it is makes Jason expression soften. "I'll make sure he calls when he's ready."

Dick nods almost listlessly. "Thanks." He knows his voice sounds hollow now, but he can't help it. Dick doesn't wait to hear the sound of the door shutting behind him before he turns to leave.

The End (for now)


	7. Chapter 7

Tim sits on Jason's couch, clutching a warm cup of tea, studiously avoiding Jason's eyes which haven't left him for more than a few moments since Dick left. "So," Jason draws out the word in an obvious attempt to garner Tim's attention, "you gonna tell me why I found you on a rooftop practically shaking and looking like your entire world fell apart?"

Tim shakes his head. He's not ready for another emotionally draining conversation so soon after what happened at the manor. "Actually I'd rather not."

"Okay." Jason plops down on the couch beside him, and Tim has to practically cover his mug to keep the liquid from sloshing over the rim. "Are you gonna tell me why Dick-ie bird looked so damn dejected?"

Tim sighs heavily. He knows he can't avoid filling Jason in, and, quite frankly, he should just be relieved that Jason didn't dump him in front of the manor's gate when he passed out. Apparently, the sleepless nights and emotional turmoil have finally caught up with him. In fact, Tim feels like he could just fall back to sleep right now. "I guess I do owe you some kind of explanation. I mean, you did let me crash on your couch, you didn't force me to leave with Dick, and you haven't kicked me out yet, so…"

Jason stops him with a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes Tim's shoulder tightly for a moment, while giving him the most reassuring expression Tim has ever seen on the man's face. "Hey, you don't have to tell me anything, just because I didn't kick you out. I know we have our issues, but you kind of look like you could use some time away, ya know?"

Tim ducks his head in embarrassment and nervously rubs the back of his neck. He's not used to seeing this side of Jason, and he doesn't know how to respond to it. "Thanks, and I'm sorry I'm such a burden."

Jason shakes his head as he nudges Tim's arm. "You're tiny, barely take up any space, have spent most of your time here either unconscious or nearly silent, and I'm honestly wondering if you eat like a real bird. You're so damn thin." He pokes Tim a few times in the stomach - who tries to squirm out of his reach - to demonstrate his point. "Exactly when do you start acting like a burden? Because I think that might be interesting to see."

"Dick did show up here because of me." Tim takes a large gulp of his tea to cover up just how much that little fact bothers him. He coughs slightly at the mild burn that travels down his throat. He really wasn't expecting Dick's presence, especially since he didn't even intend to run into Jason.

"Nope, sorry, you don't get to claim that as your fault. He didn't even know you were here."

Tim raises an eyebrow at that. He didn't actually believe Jason when he told him that earlier. "Really? Why was he here, then?"

Jason laughs at his expression, and seems to puff up with pride. "You're never going to believe this, but he wanted my advice."

Tim smirks behind his mug and tries not to laugh out right. "So, when did pigs start flying?"

Jason punches him in the arm lightly, making sure not to jostle Tim too much, and thus refraining from spilling the rest of his tea. "Shut up! This is Gotham. Don't give anyone any ideas."

Tim releases a breathy laugh at the thought. "You're right. It really is the last thing we need. That said, how much do you want to bet that Bruce has a protocol for that?"

"That's a fool's bet, especially since I already know that he does."

Tim shakes his head, but can't stop the small chuckle that escapes. "No way, I don't believe you."

"He does, I swear it." Jason holds up his hand, mimicking the Boy Scout salute. "I can even tell you the protocol name. It's Pork Rides."

Tim can't stop laughing. The entire notion is just too insane, even for Bruce. "You're making that up."

"I'm really not. Here, I'll show you." Jason gets up and goes to grab his laptop from across the room. He tosses it to Tim, who catches it easily in one hand while still holding his cup of tea in the other. "We both know you can hack into the bat cave's system from here. It's in the protocol sub folder P."

Tim places his mug down, opens the laptop, and immediately gets to work. "Fine, I'll humor you and play your little game." Jason remains silent as Tim does his thing. It isn't too long before Tim has access to the cave's system, and, from there, it only takes Tim a couple of seconds to find the right folder. "You…you weren't joking. He really does have a protocol for if pigs start flying."

Jason smirks smugly as he folds his arms over his chest. "Told ya. So, feeling better?"

Tim nods slightly. "A bit."

"Good, so do you feel like eating something, 'cause I'm starving?"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that. He was expecting Jason to start prying into everything that's been going on, not offer him food. "Um, yeah, I guess I could eat."

"Great, I'll go make something. You sit here and finish your tea." He's about to turn away, but pauses as he evidently remembers something. "Oh, and if you see a mouse with part of its ear missing, that's Leroy. He belongs to one of the neighbors' kids, but he really likes to chill out in front of my window and taunt the stray orange tabby cat that sleeps on the fire escape."

Tim snickers to himself as he nods at Jason. "Okay, Cinderella, I'll be sure to let you know if I see your mouse."

Jason grumbles, but doesn't really say anything as he makes his way into the kitchen. Tim can't help but ease back onto the sofa a little and just breathe. It's been a long time since he's been this relaxed or this comfortable; he didn't realize how much he missed this feeling until right now. He isn't looking forward to having to face Dick, and Tim knows that it's something that he'll have to do sooner rather than later, but for right now he figures he can take some time to himself and just enjoy Jason's rare hospitality. He doesn't know how long Jason's good mood will last or when Jason will start grilling him for answers, but Tim doesn't see any reason to worry about it right now. After all, it's not as though Jason is keeping him captive here. Tim could walk out at any time, though he has a feeling Jason would track him down - and he doubts that Jason would be as easily placated as Dick.

Tim's thoughts on the matter come to a screeching halt, however, when a plate piled high with grilled cheese sandwiches is practically dropped into his lap. "Um, thanks, but how many of these things do you actually expect me to eat?"

Jason grabs one of the sandwiches off of the top of the pile and takes a large bite out of it. "All of them, with the exception of this one, of course. I wasn't kidding when I said you're tiny."

Tim rolls his eyes at him. He's about to reply with something truly snarky, but he catches movement out of the corner of his eye, which draws his attention to the window. There he sees a fairly large mouse with part of its ear missing, running back and forth in front of the window, and what appears to be a well fed orange tabby cat batting at the glass from the outside. "Wow, you really weren't joking about Leroy."

Jason laughs. "Did you really think I was?" He walks over toward the mouse in question with a small piece of his sandwich in hand. "You're a bit early today, huh, buddy?" He lays the bit of sandwich on the floor a decent distance from the window, and then opens the window just enough to toss a larger piece of his grilled cheese to the cat outside. "And you," he points at the cat in a very parental way that makes Tim nearly laugh out loud, "try not to fall off the damn fire escape today."

Tim hides his chuckle by taking a bite of his own sandwich. "You really are like a Disney princess. Are there any other wayward animals that come to visit you that I should know about?"

Jason glares at the comparison before shaking his head. "Nah, the old crow that used to hang out on the roof hasn't been around lately, and the pigeons prefer Mrs. Nelly, but that's just because her kid feeds them the crust from her bread, which Mrs. Nelly knows nothing about, mind you."

Tim smirks as he finishes his grilled cheese and then sets the plate down on the makeshift coffee table in front of him. "I'm surprised Damian hasn't started spending all of his time here just so he could play with your menagerie of strays."

"Tell him about this and you'll regret it." Jason folds his arms over his chest menacingly and practically looms over Tim. "And I hope you don't honestly think you're done," he gives a pointed look down at the plate of sandwiches, "because I meant what I said and you only ate one of them."

Tim glares at him mockingly. "Hey, if either of us should be eating another sandwich it's you. After all, you gave most of yours to your animal friends."

Jason rolls his eyes before snatching another sandwich. "Fine, but you better eat another one or so help me I will stuff it down your throat."

Tim gingerly picks up another grilled cheese as he smirks at Jason. "Man, you're worse than Alfred."

"No one is worse than Alfred. Hell, I'm surprised he hasn't threatened to put your food in a blender and force-feed it to you through a straw yet."

Tim laughs as he slowly begins eating the second sandwich just to ward off Jason, who he's sure would actually shove the food down his throat given the chance. "He's only threatened to do that once, and I'm pretty sure B talked him down."

"Lucky you, then." Jason voice gets a little rougher and his facial expression hardens. Tim immediately hates himself for bringing up Bruce, especially when they were both having such a relaxing time, but Tim knows Jason well enough to know that addressing the problem will only lead to a fight, so he keeps quiet as he watches Jason walk over and pick up Leroy. "Well, I'd better return this little guy to his owner. I'll be right back." Tim nods. He's about to make an excuse to leave and get out of Jason's hair, but, before he can, Jason gives him a hard look. "Don't go anywhere."

Tim doesn't know what to do. He feels pinned to the spot, and he's made enough mistakes lately. The last thing that he wants to do is give Jason another reason to hate him, but Tim can't help the fact that he seems to just continually ruin people's day. He wants to leave before he can waste any more of Jason's time, but Tim has the impression that if he does leave, Jason will just chase after him. That would waste more of Jason's time than just staying, but he also knows Jason's good will towards him will run out sooner rather than later, and they'll probably end up in a fight anyway.

Tim startles as he feels a heavy hand land on his shoulder. "Hey, you okay? You looked like you were kind of freaking out there." Jason stares at him for a long moment, and Tim doesn't know what to say. He stares back at Jason blankly with his mouth hanging open slightly, desperately trying to find his words, and yet coming up with nothing. He snaps his mouth closed and tries to think of something to say…anything that will get Jason to stop looking at him like that, because that's how Dick looked at him when Damian finally told him everything. "Whoa, okay, calm down. Just breathe. It's fine. Whatever's got you freaking out, it's fine."

Tim doesn't know why Jason is talking to him like he's having a panic attack until he realizes that he's shaking and hasn't actually been breathing. He takes a deep breath and tries to assure Jason that he's fine, but he still can't force the words out. Tim shakes his head. "I…I should go."

He's about to bolt when Jason grabs a hold of both of his shoulders and forces him to stay seated. "Okay, I really don't know what's going on, but you're clearly freaking out, so just chill. It's fine. You're safe here."

Tim wants to laugh so badly, because none of this has ever been about safety, but hearing Jason of all people say such things is really starting to make Tim question his life in general. He forces down the laughter, however, and focuses on breathing normally. "I'm fine. It's fine. You don't have to…"

Jason shakes him a little to get him to stop talking. "It's pretty damn obvious that you're not fine, so let's just shelve that word for now. If you're freaking out because you think I'm going to force you to talk about whatever the hell is going on between you and Dickie-bird, then don't. That's between you and Golden Boy, and I don't really care. If you wanna tell me, then fine. If you don't, then that's cool, too. I'm not gonna kick you out or anything, so just relax."

Tim lets out a hollow laugh that sounds exhausted and agonized to his own ears. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Jason just shrugs. "Like I said earlier, it looks like you could use it, and we former Robins gotta stick together and all that shit."

Tim nods languidly, still trying to keep himself calm. "In that case, I think I'll stay for a while, if that's okay."

Jason huffs out an exasperated sigh as he ruffles Tim's hair. "Yeah, it's fine, baby bird."

The End (for now)


End file.
